


A Bitter Diet

by Nagiichi



Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-09
Updated: 2015-02-09
Packaged: 2018-03-11 09:34:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3322529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nagiichi/pseuds/Nagiichi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Obligatory "What if Yoriko discovered Touka was a ghoul?" retelling.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Bitter Diet

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Femslash February! I'm so glad these two got more screentime in Root A.

_"That Kirishima's a ghoul."_

       The hushed statement rung in Kosaka Yoriko's ears, her bluntly trimmed fringe shielding her eyes as she hunched over her notebook. A cram session before her entrance exams, the high schooler figured, would be best carried out in a quiet library--where her fellow peers' mirrored sense of urgency amplified the test's ever looming threat, their pens scribbling notes on a scattered array of index cards. It was there that she would be able to submerge herself in the selfsame learning environment she'd spent three years in, her mind unable to wander to the grocery list she'd begun in the morning, or the checklist of chores she'd eventually have to carry out. The highlighted streaks in her book even proved her attempt had been successful. 

       That was, until a certain piece of gossip reached her seat.

       "Huh? How do you figure that? Did she try to eat you?"The diligent student's eyes cautiously peeled themselves off of her English dictionary, opting in favour of the two boys huddled several seats away. 

       Average in both demeanour and appearance, there was little wonder Yoriko couldn't recognize their voices. Granted, were they even in the same year as her? They could easily be one or two beneath her--though the truth behind the latter surprised her even now. Despite the consistent reminders of the impending reality before her, the concept of enrolling into the long sought universities every teacher urged their pupils towards still felt far off. Crinkling her nose, she tightened her hold on the yellow marker. 

_But even so, how were they acquainted with Touka?_

       "No, but I saw... it." The rightmost of the two leaned forward, his bent hands pressed to his back--fingers wiggling.

_A kagune._

       It'd be difficult to find someone that wasn't familiar with the term these days, what with alleged ghoul specialists constantly appearing on television. Nonetheless, the word became taboo. A nonchalant mention of it could spark suspicions; after all, only  _ghouls_  would be the most familiar with their own kind, right? Yoriko hadn't heeded them much time, but even she knew that much. To the girl, ghouls felt surreal--mythical, even; she hadn't lost any family to one, hadn't seen one, hadn't encountered one...

       So to hear her best friend just may be amongst those with a human dietary? The idea wasn't even plausible. Yes, the aforementioned Kirishima would have to be someone else entirely.

       "She was still wearing our uniform and everything."

       The light-haired individual abruptly rose from her seat, the legs of the wooden seat beneath her scuffing against the rug. Flicking the cover closed, she threw her books back into her bag.  _Someone else._

       "It was already late out, right? So I figured I couldn't pass up the chance to help a poor, defenceless girl get home, but when I got closer... When I heard her speaking with someone beside that ancient-looking cafe..."

       That's right; she forgot to turn on the rice cooker at home. If she didn't hurry, she wouldn't be able to fold them into triangles for tomorrow's lunch before heading to bed. What if Touka doesn't bring enough food tomorrow?

_Ghouls don't eat human food._

       She gulped, slipping her backpack's strap over her shoulder--her hand swinging the library door open, though her indoor shoes stopped short of the exit. Frozen in place, her eyes widened.

_But Touka always ate the lunches she'd offered her._

       The resolution doused her unnerved suspicions with relief, the heavy remnants of her former anxiety digging its roots farther into her stomach:

_Guilt._

       She, who had supported her friend for years... 

       She, who had received nothing but kindness from the habitually secluded classmate--earning an all too selfish sense of individuality from the favouritism...

       She, who repetitively stressed her desire to support the other had all but betrayed her beloved companion within minutes.

_The realization made her feel sick._

* * *

 

       Kirishima Touka furrowed her brows, her cobalt orbs studying the nibbling girl across from her as she plopped another piece of her egg omelet into her mouth--a perpetual smile etched into her face even as she chewed. 

       It'd been well over a week since Yoriko had last offered her some of her cooking, her final bite taken from a slice of an apple--its scarlet skin carved with precision into a rabbit. 

       A rabbit, her trademark animal.

       Although she hadn't dwelled on it at the time, was her reaction odd? No, she couldn't recall behaving any differently than usual--the only memories she could evoke from the moment being its putrid aftertaste, its bitterness lingering even after her regularly scheduled purging. Just how much of her enamel must she have eroded after desperately hoping to rid it with her toothbrush later that evening? Rather, the more she thought back to it, the more peculiar--the more  _rigid_ \--her friend's movements had been that day. The human's muscles seemed tense, and her attention never withdrew from the taller of the two as she sunk her teeth into the fruit, as if she was expecting some sort of riposte to fumble from between her lips.

       Had she been testing a new recipe? Had the apple been dipped in some sort of coating she'd been unable to detect? Given its uselessness to someone whose digestive system rejected nearly everything, her lack of culinary knowledge shied heavily from what was deemed "normal". If that was the case, had she upset her?

       Yes, that must have been the case. She'd been insensitive, and that must have disheartened Yoriko.

        _Eight days_  without so much as a gram of her optimistic friend's heart-filled contraptions. Whenever Touka's pen scratched another box off of her calendar--its metallic charm clinking against her thin fingers--the corners of her mouth would dip into a frown.

       Her body reacted positively to the change--the smog clouding her mind dissipating, her agility eagerly returning to its former state, her senses all heightened to nearly double what she'd grown accustomed to...

       And it worried her.

* * *

        _Was it odd?_ The aspiring chef wondered, her ankles hugging each other beneath her desk. The lecturing professor's booming voice fell on deaf ears, the words scratched on the board reading as nothing more than a distant collage of scribbles. Was it odd for her to so quickly accept a silly rumour she'd eavesdropped on? She'd never found herself to be one that paid them much heed before, and yet this one utterance couldn't seem to leave her mind. 

        _Was it odd for her not to care?_

       If Touka was, indeed, a ghoul, so many of her partner's bizarre patterns would make sense: her secretive nature, her sudden need to alter plans, perhaps even Ayato's disappearance... 

       Yet she'd never once glared at Yoriko with predatory eyes. She'd never once salivated when the two were alone. She'd never once placed her own needs before the human's, and the recollection of their time together planted a seed of thought--one seen as dangerous to most--in her mind: _Was there really any issue coexisting with a ghoul?_

        The sunken eyes the pale teenager carried were not caused by the lack of nutrients, as the gleefully unknowing other had figured--but rather a surplus, and the remedies Yoriko spoon-fed her only served to worsen her health. The more she forced down the other's throat, the more ashen she would look the following day. In retrospect, it was a wonder she hadn't accidentally killed her friend yet.

       Why hadn't Touka ever denied the food? Why did she always agree to eat it? 

       Was it for her own sake, a necessary evil to maintain the human facade she'd carried for over seventeen years?

       Or was it for Yoriko, who knew all too well how heavily she relied on her companion's compliance?

       She crinkled her nose, void pupils fixated on the date she'd hastily marked in the corner of her paper. The pink stripe belted around her knitted sweater's sleeve shielded her wrists for the cold, serving as a distressed reminder that she was still in class, and that her thoughts should not be so jumbled--so distracted--when the threat of failing seeped closer with every passing day. It'd  be embarrassing, after all, if she couldn't manage to enter the school she'd selected. How would she explain that Touka?

_But how could she focus?_

       If that was the case--if she'd  _truly_  been the origin of her supposed friend's deteriorating condition--wouldn't she be causing her nothing but despair? Had all of her efforts been for naught? 

       No, they'd been entirely destructive. 

       Slapping her palms to her cheeks, Yoriko nodded once, her pleated skirt wrinkling against her chair as she casted herself back into her work. There must have been  _something_  she could do to help the other--something,  _anything_ , to support her, but what? The student was little more than average; she was fully aware she'd never be able to empathize with whatever struggles Touka would undergo, but at the very least there was _one_ thing she could manage within her power: 

     And thus she resolved to cease her torture of the innocent girl seated behind her.

* * *

       In two days, it would have been an entire month since Yoriko last shared a lunch with the increasingly self conscious cafe employee. Why, Touka wondered, had she kept count for so long? Why had she even kept note of the final time in the first place?

       She hadn't felt better in ages. In fact, she was certain she'd manage to destroy her arrogant brother in an act of revenge if ever they encounter each other once more--the humility of that day's events still permanently tattooed in the back of her mind. Yes, she could easily tear his own repulsive  _wings_ from his spine, her eyelids downcast as she gloated from atop him in a sheer fit of rage.

_Then why did she still feel so terrible?_  The scarved ghoul peered over to her right, her animated companion still chirping about a program she'd caught on television just the other night. 

       "I missed its original air date the last time," Yoriko laughed, her hands perched against her hips. The streetlights illuminated their path, their footsteps rhythmically mirroring the pace of one another. "It was a close call, too. If that biology homework had taken me even five more minutes, I..."

       With a weak smile, Touka nodded along--her grip subconsciously tightening around the keyholder she'd transfixed onto her bag years prior. 

       That's right: it was the unnerving suspicion that the one she held dearest had replaced her.

       Yoriko always poured her affections into her dishes, even if the young girl carrying an unfortunate bloodline never managed to taste it for what it was worth. Every meal was unique from the previous one, a varying assortment in both appearance and content; thought was carefully placed within each box, and the fact that something that consumed so much of her time, so much of her effort, was offered to her unworthy palate? That was why she never hesitated to devour it whole, regardless of the chef's presence. It was through her sweets--through her savouries--that her bright-eyed friend proved her love towards her, and hence their absence filled Kirishima with a sense of unease. 

       The soles of her boots grinded to a halt, her head hung low. Had Yoriko found someone else to share her food with? Had she found someone she enjoyed being with more than her? Would she leave her, too? 

       It wouldn't be a staggering development, not with their paths soon diverging from one another, and yet regardless, Touka had nonchalantly found herself clinging to the unspoken agreement that they  _would_  continue to meet each other in the years to follow as if nothing had changed. Had she been mistaken? 

       Did Yoriko not feel the same way?

       As if on cue, the girl who stumbled forward grinded her own heels to the ground, her shoulder angled back to face the other. Evidently startled by the sudden pause, Kosaka blinked, her once flapping lips pressing into a thin line.

       "Touka?"

       The addressee remained unresponsive, her shoulders drooping by her sides. If things continued in the same manner, the question of  _whether or not_ the gap between the two would widen would altogether shift into  _when_. Clenching her fists with determination, she took a deep breath--her lungs overflowing with the crisp air. 

* * *

       "Have you been feeling alright lately?" 

       Kosaka Yoriko arched a brow, her head cocked to the side. Much to her relief, exams had finally ended, and all that remained of her high school life was being spent beside the one she'd latched herself onto at the start; just as it should be.

       To her, the possibility of Touka being a ghoul had become a fact--one that she accepted so quickly, so readily, that she pondered over whether its truth entitled her betrayal towards humankind. She hadn't even witnessed solid evidence for it, all of its verification relying on the smallest of hints, such as how increasingly full of life the other had become since her experiment began. Was it wrong for her to continue being in her presence? Was it wrong for her to be happiest when with her? Was she just expected to report the person closest to her to the CCG, as if their bond meant absolutely nothing?

       Nothing had changed, in essence--the only alteration she made to their relationship being who she would select to sample her food. Her family consisted of her primary pool of selection, though she'd given a few bites to her classmates once or twice before--an ominous sense of doom weighing over her shoulders as a certain indigo-haired individual watched the entire time.

       Whether Touka was a ghoul or not, Yoriko didn't seem to care enough to ask. What was important to her was that her friend was fine, regardless of statistics like "RC count" or "enzyme constitution"--both terms she'd learned deliberately for the sake of avoiding endangering Touka any longer.

       "I-- I don't mind your lunches, you know. Although it's not like we have much time left anyway, but even so..."

       ... _Huh?_

       The human's optics dilated in response to the confession, her fingers unhooking themselves from the thin, leather strap clinging to her coat and fumbling down to her sides. Had she been wrong? Had she been fretting over nothing all along? With her shoes shuffling against the gravel, Yoriko hurried back to reclaim her place before her friend--her toes parking themselves a mere few centimetres from the other's. _No, that didn't make sense._ She hadn't caught Touka eating much of anything in what felt like ages, and no human could survive off of nothing more than a single sandwich every day--much less enough so to still manage to have plentiful energy for their joint gym class. Touka could _still_ run laps around Yoriko if she wanted to; that much was certain. Unless she binged at work, certainly those calories must have been derived from elsewhere...?

       The taller of the two cautiously peered back upward from beneath her fringe, albeit abashed from the words that had escaped from between her own lips only seconds prior. "Ah! But that's not to say that you _have to_ , of course. If you don't want to, that's perfectly fine, but lately you've just seemed so... _withdrawn_... that I was wondering if something might have... happened..." Her cheeks tinted an uncharacteristic rose hue as she dismissively waved her hands in front of her, her sentence trailing off. There were only a few cases where Yoriko had been subjected to the treat of her flustered comrade, and almost all of them could be  attributed to a certain feature: admitted selfishness. 

       Of course, _Yoriko_ never found any of Touka's troubles egocentrical, but the latter would  consistently argue otherwise. Anything that demanded something out of her cheerful friend, regardless of how small, would cause the part-time employee to hesitate--her teeth desperately sinking into her lower lip. Having found satisfaction in simply watching the light-haired individual bob about every day, the concept of asking her for anything more than her already radiant grin would send her stomach into spirals. 

        Yes, if that expression managed to surface itself now, the chef could finally draw a conclusion: Touka had been persevering for _both_ of their sakes, although a bit differently than she'd surmised earlier. The ghoul would gladly agree to taste the meals because she was fully aware that they made her happy, and because _she_ liked Yoriko, the joy was mutual. For the most part, at least.

      _Although it must have tasted terrible, huh?_

       With a chuckle, the viridescent-eyed girl clasped Touka's hands in her own, her bangs brushing against her brows as she shook her head. "Thank you, but that's okay. I don't want to make you sick anymore."

       Through her palms, she could feel Touka stiffen--startled, no doubt. It wasn't uncommon for humans to fall ill from food, especially when it came to undercooked noodles or even a surplus of dairy, but there was something about Yoriko's demeanor--her confidence as she spoke--that instantly drove the possibility away, leaving only silence between the two. Kirishima's jaw hung agape as if to speak, though to little merit. It took a moment before, finally, her tongue clicked against the roof of her mouth in a mumble, "Yoriko, do you--"

        "After all the effort I went through to catch the last episode, I'll be angry if I miss my drama again, you know." Placing her hands on her waist, the shorter student abruptly interrupted the other's accusation and leaned forward--her cheeks puffed out with a pout, though the growing smirk beneath its mask quickly foiled her attempts of being intimidating. There would be a better opportunity to discuss something so heavy than now, she figured. A time when the ghoul would _want_ her friend to know, rather than being forced to explain out of necessity, would eventually have to come, and the human would be more than willing to be patient until then. "Want to come over and watch it with me?"

        Dubiously, the teenager clad in blue crinkled her nose before harmoniously nodding once--returning the other's intimacy with a squeeze of their hands. "...Sure."


End file.
